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Chris Thomas
Poems
Apr 2016
Gravitas
Outstretched hands
I'm governed by a cycle of choices
Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.
Dirt under my fingernails
I listen to a thousand voices
Wash.
Rinse.
Repeat.
Gripping a shovel
I break earth and hit layers of shale
Break.
Stop.
Withdraw.
Eight barren harvests
Yielding no fruits, just broken, rusted locks
Break.
Stop.
Withdraw.
I suppose by now my disposition is bitter
The gravitas courses these bloodless veins
Write.
Speak.
Destroy.
I collect no glee from your failure
Nor scintillating coins that rattle like chains around feet.
I just write.
Speak.
Destroy.
Written by
Chris Thomas
43/M/Knoxville, Tennessee, USA
(43/M/Knoxville, Tennessee, USA)
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Jamadhi Verse
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Keith Wilson
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